


Running

by majorshipper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Between Seasons/Series, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-19
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:46:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majorshipper/pseuds/majorshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The glass hits the counter harder than he meant. Cracks are starting to show.</p><p>Set between S5 and S6; no real big spoilers for S6, maybe mild conceptual stuff. Just a snapshot of Dean, Sam, and Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running

Dean’s heart is pounding in his chest and he can’t catch his breath. Beside him, Lisa is unaware as he slips out of their bed and downstairs. His socked feet make soft scuffing sounds against the floors.

He thinks of throwing dirty socks and underwear and sweaty hunt-soaked t-shirts at-

The glass hits the counter harder than he meant. Brown liquid swishes at the bottom of the bottle and he can’t drown his dreams out.

 _-because there’s always running harder faster further because he’s just there ahead of him and his jacket is slipping out of his fingers and he’s tumbling because he’s disappearing now and he can’t catch his breath and then-_

The glass hits the counter harder than he meant. Cracks are starting to show.

Another day, another night.

This life, this world, his whole fucking world, slipping and sliding away and he doesn’t care, because he can’t catch his breath.

 

~

 

Memories shuffle and rearrange themselves in alphabetical order as opposed to chronological because that’s all he has down here. He runs laps around them to keep it all fresh. To remind him. Then he does it again.

He doesn’t wake up. Screaming-

There are no days and nights in hell.

 

~

 

He’s running dry, running on empty, Dean would say. _Dean_ , something inside him pangs.

There isn’t enough time, and it’s gliding through his fingers like it was never there. He chases his father across the earth and kills his brothers where he does not find Him. Spinning and moving and onwards _always onwards_ , day after night after innumerable lives.

He killed five angels today, and he did it all, he rebelled and said no and preaches freedom, for-

He’s lonely. _He misses them._


End file.
